Silver Linings Playbook: A Glee Story
by Athena Sampaio
Summary: Santana is Pat. Brittany is Tiffany. More characters from Glee will make appearances. This story, like the movie, is about connections, however unlikely and unexpected they may seem. Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show "Glee," the movie "Silver Linings Playbook," or anything else associated with either. This story is fanfiction, meant to entertain and nothing more.


**AN: So this is a little something I decided to venture into. I've been obsessed with this idea of Brittana in the "Silver Linings Playbook" world for a while now, and I finally got around to it. If you're a fan of the movie, be forewarned that I will be taking liberties with the original script so that the "Glee" characters can blend in.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show "Glee," the movie "Silver Linings Playbook," or anything else associated with either. This story is fanfiction, meant to entertain and nothing more.**

 **Chapter 1**

Santana looked out the window. She was in her room at Karel Psychiatric Hospital, waiting to be escorted to her next group therapy session. She nodded to herself, thinking of how far she's come. When she first stepped foot in this place 8 months ago, she was placed in a small dark room that had one small window facing the side of another building. She preferred her current more spacious room, with its big windows that provided plenty of natural light and an open view of the trees and the courtyard.

She took a deep breath. She felt light and focused. As if everything inside of her was as organized as her outside. She wore a simple navy sweater over a plain white shirt, grey sweat pants and sneakers, but still, she felt confident and put-together in her attire. She felt comfortable. She felt like she was ready for something big. She could almost taste it.

 _Tina_. As they were always bound to do, Santana's thoughts quickly turned to her wife. _Tina, Tina._ She was Santana's everything. Her best friend. Her lover. Her family. They were great together, easy like lazy mornings on Sundays. Santana loved Sundays. She lived for Sundays. Her whole family used to get together. Her mom would make her famous _pasteles_ , her dad would have his jersey on, and they would all be watching the game.

"You didn't even know that I loved it, Tina. But I did," she said, as if her wife had been standing right in front of her. She needed to practice after all. It wouldn't be long until she could _really_ say everything she wanted to say to her. "I was always so negative. I just didn't appreciate it, or you, before."

She was interrupted by a knock at the door and one of the orderlies loudly calling her. She looked over her shoulder, slightly peeved at the disruption even though she had been expecting it. She chose to ignore the call, turning back to the window and the bright day outside. She needed to finish.

"I lost all that. I blew it. But you also blew it, Tina. We can get it back. We're gonna get it back. It's all gonna be better now. I'm better now and I hope you are, too. And I'm gonna appreciate-"

Another knock at the door. Santana huffed and spoke over her shoulder without moving away from her spot.

"Hey, I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

"Doctor's waiting," she heard the orderly outside. "Let's go."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." With a final longing look out the window, she whispered, "That's true love."

Resigned to what she had to do next, she grabbed the mayonnaise jar that doubled as her water bottle for when she exercised, and left the room, passing by her trusty "Excelsior" sign taped to the wall. She left the black trash bag she often used strewn on the bed. She quickly learned to avoid wearing it to therapy sessions since the doctors tended to pick on her when she did. They didn't understand her process. They liked to say they did, but they didn't, not really.

She followed the orderly down the hallway and the stairway toward the nurse's station. She got in place in line and waited for her turn, slowly moving up to the small opening on the glass panel that guarded the station, and the medication, from the patients. She accepted the clear plastic container with a white and orange capsule when it was her turn. She tipped her head back and dumped the pill in her mouth before taking the water cup the nurse handed to her. She drank the water and opened her mouth wide, sticking out her tongue so the nurse could see the back of her throat. She waited for the nod indicating she could go, and moved to the double doors at the back of the reception area, nodding to the orderly that had escorted her and had now taken position at the wall near the nurse's station.

The moment she heard the soft swift of the doors closing behind her, she produced the pill she pretended to swallow earlier and spit it out. She watched it land on the floor with a smirk and barely concealed satisfaction. She could've thrown it out at a trash can or flushed it down the toiled, and no one would be the wiser. If only watching the nurses freak out after finding the discarded pills wasn't so absolutely hilarious.

She found the room she was supposed to be in and moved toward one of the chairs. She nodded to her friend Mercedes sitting across from her, and leaned back waiting for the session to begin. She clutched her mayonnaise water bottle in both hands, letting her eyes wander around the room. She observed the way the grey-haired woman sitting next to Mercedes clutched her trembling arms against her lower abdomen. She watched as a young woman walked toward where Santana sat and claimed the seat to her right. She did a double take when she realized the young woman had a black sock puppet on her right hand, complete with big white eyes and red hair. She faced forward again, expression carefully blank. She wasn't there to judge.

 _Why are the chairs always in a circle?_ She thought she understood the logic behind the set-up, but she couldn't help wonder if the doctors never thought to mix things up a little every once in a while. It was always the same routine, the same chairs, the same circle, day after day after day. It was like no one in this place had any shred of imagination left. Maybe they never had it to begin with.

She was reeled out of her wandering thoughts by Mercedes' voice. The session had already started, and her friend was telling the story about the time her hairdresser messed her hair. Santana loved Mercedes; she was her buddy, her home girl. But the bitch was way too obsessed with her weave.

"What about you, Santana?"

She looked around the room to find everyone staring at her. She'd lost track of the session again.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"I asked if there's anything you've learned this past week, anything you would like to share with the rest of us."

"Ah, well, you know," she sighed, racking her mind for something of substance. "This past week was all about being better, you know? Facing your obstacles and moving beyond them, moving past what's holding you back. You know, once you get in the right frame of mind, I think anything's possible. I think we get, we so often get caught in this state of negativity and it's a, it's a poison like nothing else. You know? That's what I thin- that's what I learned."

"Very well. Thank you, Santana." The doctor nodded at her and smiled, moving on to someone else in their little group. She caught Mercedes' eye and gave a slight eye roll, and her friend chuckled. They both knew Santana truly believed in the things she said, but she had to repeat it so often it bordered on ridiculous. It was always the same thing, the same day repeated over and over in these rooms. She sometimes wondered how any of them were supposed to get better when this place made them feel like they'd stopped living.

After the session was over, Santana couldn't get away fast enough. She needed to be outside. She schooled her power walking so none of the orderlies would think she was running, since that was a big no-no. She almost burst out of one of the side exits, deeply inhaling the fresh air. She was almost dizzy with the instant adrenaline that shot through her body. Her legs carried her to the edge of the courtyard by the wall, where she began a series of warm-up exercises. She gave a fleeting thought to her exercise trash bag before losing herself in the mind numbing activity.

She was approaching her target count at push-ups when a pair of pristine white high-heel shoes entered her peripheral vision. She paused and followed a pair of legs, a white-button down dress and a beige coat up until she landed on her mother's face. She was panting from the sudden stop to her rhythm, and could do nothing but stare up at her mom's smiling face.

"Well?" her mom asked. Santana laid immobile on the ground, unable to comprehend the sight before her eyes. "Let's get you out of here."

Maribel Lopez then marched past her prone daughter's form towards the main entrance of the Psychiatric facility. She took ten steps before Santana's mind caught up and kicked her body into gear. She picked up her mayonnaise water bottle and rushed after the other woman. She smiled at the way her mother slammed open the main doors, and only one thought crossed her mind as she followed her mom's grand entrance.

 _Finally_.

 **AN: So yeah, just a small introduction. What do you guys think? Should I keep going with this?**


End file.
